


Folie à deux

by HiMiTSu



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Murder, after the finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 20:27:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4719338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiMiTSu/pseuds/HiMiTSu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They run away together. And then they kill. Together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Folie à deux

**Author's Note:**

> I am rewatching Hannibal and one line about Will being able to empathize with anyone, not only serial killers, got me thinking…I imagined a situation where Will would be interested in understanding the victim.
> 
> Please read the tags and if you are uncomfortable with anything from the above, do not read this fic. This is a very dark story.
> 
> I used the European cities I’ve actually been to for accuracy. (One of them is actually my home).

They found her in Prague, a student on a long holiday, a beautiful redheaded girl with pale skin and freckles. It was Hannibal who pointed her out in the crowd, an excited little thing standing beneath the Astronomy clock, head tilted up and bouncing on her tiptoes, camera ready in her hands. The clock stroke four as Will’s eyes sought out her, her pretty curls shining copper in the evening Autumn sun. A smile spread over her face as she lifted her camera up, capturing the movements of the small figures on the tower, accompanied by a bell rang by a skeleton figure.  


“What are you thinking?” Hannibal whispered the question into his ear, breath warm against Will’s chilled skin.  


Not tearing his eyes from the girl Will replied just as softly, “It sounds like death.” His voice barely carried over the ringing of a small bell.  


As the performance stopped and the tourist crowd started dissipating, each person smiling and muttering praises, Will linked his fingers with Hannibal’s briefly, squeezing gently for merely a moment, and moved away, approaching the girl under the Astronomy clock.  


-  


Luring the unsuspecting victim had been easier than he imagined. The girl was alone and welcomed any company of a fellow traveller. Will told her stories about the beauty of Venice, about the eccentricity of Barcelona and about cold-heartedness of Saint-Petersburg. She listened attentively, little gasps falling from her lips and big smile gracing her face. Will had other stories to tell, how they pushed the remains of a body into the Grand Canal, how they abducted an older woman from Park Güell or how they fed the Hermitage cats the liver of their handler. It was more exciting than boring tourist tales, but Will kept it to himself. It belonged only to Hannibal and him, their own little secrets.  


It was easy to be nice and sociable when he was just playing a role. The girl liked him, maybe even felt attraction if the subtle flirting was anything to go by: she made it easier for him to lure her to the apartment he shared with Hannibal.  


From the moment she stepped over the threshold, it became a completely different story. Not a romantic comedy, as she thought, but a horror she couldn’t even imagine. Will saw the moment the realization flashed in her eyes; he relished it. The shock as she whirled around to try and dart away and then the terror when she saw Will blocking the doorway.  


“I see you’ve brought a guest for dinner.” Hannibal’s smile was menacing.  


“Please, don’t hurt me.” The girl pleaded, stepping away from approaching Will. He caught up to her, stepping close.  


“Shhhh…It will be over soon.”  


He green eyes widened in terror and Will, usually so cautious of eye contact, stared right back, feeding on her fear. A wave of hopelessness washed over him, originating in her blood, but he felt it as his own. A tremor ran down his spine, his hands shook and he held his balance by grabbing onto her shoulders. He felt like an earthquake, wave after wave of terror shaking them both, hearts beating in sync. A tear slipped from her eye and Will sensed how it slid down his cheek, cold.  


Hannibal’s voice was what pulled him back - his name in that soft rumble.  


Will tore his eyes away, the fog lifting from his mind and heartrate falling back to assured slow beat. The girl whimpered in his arms, crying harder, but Will ignored it in favor of his partner. Hannibal’s eyes were soft, his features completely open to Will’s scrutiny, a satisfied smirk played in the corners of his full lips. His hands went around the girl’s waist to settle on Will’s hips, capturing the poor victim in-between.  


Will reached into a pocket of his own coat and took out a small knife. Hannibal’s eyes danced in mirth as it was pressed into his hand.  


“Thank you, love.” He murmured over the girl’s hiccupped sobs, curling his fingers around the handle and withdrawing his hand.  


“Happy anniversary.” Will retorted, a teasing lift of his eyebrow contradicting his gentle tone. Just as Hannibal withdrew, he stepped closer still reaching out for his lover in return. The girl let out whimper, her small breasts pressing into Will’s chest, a wild beat of her heart echoing in his ribcage. He looked down at her, wide pretty eyes red rimmed rom crying, dark tracks of mascara on her cheeks, a blood on her lip where she bit down to stifle her sobs.  


“Please, please, please…” she kept repeating over and over, but it lacked conviction. She knew there was no escape but shook her head in stubborn denial. Will carefully wiped away a tear with his thumb. A gesture was so gentle and his eyes so kind, a slim hope shimmered in her eyes and she reached for him, her bony fingers wrapping around his wrist, “Help me, pl-” She choked on a word with a gasp, falling against him as Hannibal twisted a knife in her back. Her crying renewed, more from pain than from fear and Will ran a hand through her red curls soothingly.  


“Reminds you of Freddy Lounds, doesn’t she?” Hannibal asked with interest.  


“I wouldn’t be this gentle with Freddy Lounds.” It sounded more like a promise than a hypothesis and Hannibal smiled.  


“Of course.”  


The girl’s body gave a little twitch – the knife being pulled out of the wound unexpectedly, her tears were soaking into Will’s shirt. Hannibal’s hands came around her again, lifting her up and the girl tried to fight off his touch, but there was no chance of her over powering his strength. When she was reclined against the man’s stout frame, head lolling on his shoulder – a pale face and all those pretty ginger curls a stark contrast with Hannibal’s dark suit – a bloodied hand reached for Will’s, returning the knife. Will spared it a glance: the blade red with blood, and tested the familiar weight in his hand.  


“Let me go,” the girl pleaded, voice weak.  


Her eyes, her beautiful eyes, implored for mercy. Will surged forward, plunging the knife in her gut, never taking his gaze from those lovely eyes. They grew wide in shock and then scrunched shut in pain as she cried out in pain. Her blood red lips fell open in harsh pants; her full body trembled as she grew weak and only Hannibal’s hold kept her upright. The girl’s blood ran down the blade onto his fingers, taking away her life.  


“You are beautiful,” Hannibal said; Will looked up to find the other man staring at him with awe. This was not their first victim, just the first one Will wanted to sympathize with, this once using his gift for empathy to understand not the killer but the dying. Still, every time, Hannibal looked at him like he couldn’t believe…like he was astonished at Will’s willing and enthusiastic participation. Carefully Hannibal reached out, blooded fingers tucking wayward curls away from Will’s eyes, leaving crimson tracks in their wake.  


Instead of replying Will tore the knife away from the girl’s flesh, feeling the pained stutter in her breath. His hand was wet and stained red, but his grip on the slippery handle was firm. Hannibal’s smile as he took back the weapon was infatuating.  


“For you, love.” With those words, laced with open affection, he ran the blade across the girl’s throat. Her mouth fell open in a silent scream.  


Will closed his eyes against the splutter of blood, filling the droplets hit his face, get caught in his hair and taint his lips. He could hear how the girl wheezed, fighting for breath, and her hands thrashed against Hannibal, hitting him in the leg, too weak to do any damage but still fighting.  


In a couple of moments she stilled. All sound stopped, Will opened his eyes hesitantly, first seeing her bloodied frame, pale face marred with red and green irises unresponsive. He breathed in deeply against the onslaught of emotion it brought, balling his hands into fists. He always felt the most vulnerable after a kill, open to the whole world to see and read him. But there was only Hannibal there, a man who knew Will better than Will knew himself. A man who leaned over the dead girl’s shoulder to press a chaste kiss to his lips, sharing the taste of her blood.  


They were mad. So mad. But it didn’t matter. It was their little secret. Just like the love they shared.

**Author's Note:**

> So…I’ve written the whole thing and only then realized that this may come off as one big metaphor for sex. Which is not a bad thing tbh


End file.
